Brick By Boring Brick
by RedHandedJill44
Summary: Based on the lyrics of "Brick By Boring Brick" by Paramore. "She wanted to tell him she understood, she forgave him, she saw why he had done... what he had done. As he took a step to match hers, she found the words. You... have always had my back."
1. Chapter 1

**_'Brick By Boring Brick' takes place during "Truth or Consequences" (possibly "Reunion" as well) and is based on the song by Paramore "Brick By Boring Brick." THIS IS NOT A TRADITIONAL SONGFIC. We do not own NCIS or Paramore._**

**_First off I want to thank my wonderful co-writer jessisparks2315 :) she is possibly the best writing partner out there and she wrote the majority of the Ziva parts here *claps for Jessi* She will be handling all of the Ziva parts from here on and I (RedHandedJill44) will be tackling Mr. Anthony DiNozzo here :) So please read and review! We want to know what you think! Please! _**

_**And now without any further ado, we bring you 'Brick By Boring Brick."**_

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**Brick By Boring Brick**

_She lives in a fairy tale, somewhere too far for us to find… Forgotten the taste and smell of a world that she's left behind..._

With a gasp she awoke.

Pain. Blinding pain.

Bright light flashed in her eyes and shadows scurried in the void. She could feel herself reeling backwards from the blinding pain, her rapidly blinking eyes bringing everything into focus.

Then the light was gone.

Blackness shrouded her once again. Voices shouted in Arabic, seemingly coming from all sides. She shook her head underneath the blackness surrounding her head but could see nothing. She searched her mind for the correct words but their meanings and sounds eluded her. Suddenly the voice came again, this time in a language familiar and comforting, yet in a tone that belied a deadly threat. She searched her mind for the Hebrew phrases she grew up knowing, yet all that her mind could come up with was empty silence.

Then the voice came again. "Let me try this one more time." English. Her mind reeled as she understood the words that were – at one point in her life – completely foreign to her. A rough hand ripped the bag from her face and she saw the face of her captor. He was close to her and with calm, cold eyes he looked into hers. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Her mouth opened and only silence came out. She could feel her eyes nearly roll into her head as she almost fell out of the chair. The man before her turned around and shouted a few words in… Arabic. She was pretty sure it was Arabic… The next thing she knew the contents of a canteen were being poured down her throat. She gagged and was tempted to throw up on the man before her, but kept it down.

She exhaled and hung her head as she ran her tongue over her mouth and lips. She could move them once more without pain.

"Let's try this again." The man stood and moved before her. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her up sharply. She held in a gasp of pain and looked her captor in the eye. His voice lowered to a whisper and his cold and chilling voice sent chills up and down her spine. "I know who you are, Ziva David. I know you're the daughter of Eli David. I know you work for Mossad. I even know why you are here. But there are a few things, I don't know." He leaned in closer until he was just a breath away from her face. "Tell me everything you know… about NCIS…"

...

It was strange, she thought, how little anything mattered any longer. Even as her body lit on fire with agony at each new method meant to force her to speak, she drifted. She wasn't allowed sleep - that would be far too easy, too humane - but her mind left her body with increasing ease. She danced in places of her past and visited on those she loved. Her sister in the forests of Israel, her mother tucking her in at night in Tel Aviv. She just left her body behind and let her mind go free. It came easily. So much so that it frightened her and she resisted, trying to keep grounded in where she was, who she was; _was she losing her mind? Her grip?_ and then reason reminded her that her mind had no further purpose in a soon-to-be-vacated body, and she allowed herself to drift again.

This time she drifted farther than she ever had. Across the scorching Sahara Desert, to match the burning of her skin. Cold Atlantic waters, to freeze her into the throbbing of her head. Until a familiar brick building rose from the depths of her consciousness and she stood in the bullpen, in an empty NCIS building, with only the dim emergency lights on, staring out the window at the Yard. It was peaceful, there: The place where her mind rested.

Something moved behind her, but for the first time since she had watched Gibbs walk onto that plane, she wasn't immediately on the defensive. Instead, she turned, and she smiled.

Tony. Senior Field Agent. Movie buff. Chauvanist pig. And the one person she would give the world to see. And he was smiling at her, halfway, as though caught up in the sight of her, drinking her in.

A thousand words rose up and caught in her throat and she took a step forward. She'd crossed through fire and ice to get here, and she couldn't think of a thing to say. She wanted to tell him she understood, she forgave him, she saw why he had done... what he had done. As he took a step to match hers, she found the words. _You... have always had my back_.

"Ziva," he said, reaching for her. As she felt his arms around her shoulders, strong, warm, safe, she said, "Tony, you -"

But something was wrong. The world was spinning - _she_ was spinning, falling apart. As though from outside of herself, she watched her own shape crumble into pieces, dust, like the hot Somalian sand, in Tony's arms, saw his face break as he tried to hold her together until she - and the entire scene - blew away in a wind she couldn't feel.

* * *

With a gasp Tony awoke. He shook his head and looked around his room. The nightmare... It was just a nightmare. Ziva was there... she seemed so real - and alive. He thought he could reach out and touch her. He sat up and ran his hands through his hair, fighting the chills that ran up and down his spine. Not since Kate died had he felt this way.

8 months. 248 days. 5952 hours. 8 months since he'd seen Ziva. 248 days without her nagging him about his dating career. 5952 hours without her messing up movie references.

Not since Kate died had he kept such a record of the passing time. It had taken close to a year to get used to not seeing his partner, his friend. But Ziva? Who knows how long this would take?

He got up and walked around his apartment. It was empty, like always, but after tonight is seemed vacant. It was as if something vital was missing.

_Ziva_.

He closed his eyes and collapsed into a chair, his hands running through his hair. For once in his life he felt helpless... hopeless. He saw her tonight. He _saw her_ tonight. Somehow in that dream -that nightmare - somehow he saw her.

_It was in the bullpen, late at night. He was finishing up paperwork, trying to clear his mind, when she walked in. He didn't believe it when he saw it, but there she was standing there like always. He watched as she gazed over the squad room with an affectionate eye, taking in the peace and the quiet. _

_He felt as if he could sit and watch for the rest of his life, but his mind had other plans. He stood up quickly and nearly gasped as she turned around to face him. With one glance he took in her face, and rage and protection flared up within him as he saw the bruises and cuts that littered her pretty face. A face made all the more beautiful by the marks. _

_He smiled softly as she nervously glanced around. From the moment the C-17 touched ground in DC, she was forgiven. Never had he held a grudge in her 8 months hiatus. But did she know that? Her eyes told the story and nothing in the world could have told him more plainly. "Ziva...  
He reached out to her and took her in his arms, holding her close and tight like he had wanted to for the past 8 months._

_"Tony, you-"_

_And then she was gone. He stood there, grasping at air, and watched her turn into sand and fall away, piece by piece, and blow away on the east wind._

He had woken up then. He leaned back in the chair, cringing at the memory. She was there - he could touch her! - but then she was gone. Taken away by a force unknown. Yet for some reason it gave him hope. It gave him drive. He sat up in the chair, eyes sparking with clarity. Ziva David was alive. That much he knew. No one else could tell him otherwise. She was alive - for now.

And he would find her. Dead or Alive.

And be her dead or alive, he would find who did this to her. He said a quick prayer for them, because hell hath no fury like a man hellbent on revenge.

_It's all about the exposure, the lens, I told her. The angles are all wrong now, she's ripping wings off of butterflies..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all of the response we've gotten from this story! We couldn't have expected this much response in our wildest dreams so thank you very much! Also a big thank you to all who reviewed! Thank you so much for your response and questions! :) So enjoy and please review!**

******(oh and about reviewing, this story has had almost 325 hits and only 9 reviews in only 2 days. Seriously? Come on guys, please. It doesn't take long to review at all. You don't even have to sign in! Just let us know if you like it, hate it, if something needs to be fixed... anything. We want to know what you think! We really do! Especially since this story is for you! Okay rant over. Back to wonderful NCIS Tony and Ziva goodness :)**  


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Keep your feet on the ground._

The questions kept coming. The Man wanted to know about everything. NCIS. The team. Their cases. He kept her here, not letting her go back to the bullpen, that still moment, the strength and safety that Tony provided.

The questions about the cases were to give her an opportunity to relax into memory, to drift off of her guard, so she couldn't answer those either, didn't let herself speak, hardly let herself open her mouth, except when they forced her to drink water.

Once, she caught herself reciting a movie line that Tony had once used. "The vessel with the pestle holds the brew that is true." The Man screamed at her for that. But how could she explain? She didn't know the movie. She hardly knew that she remembered it, much less why she'd said it, much less why she laughed when the Man questioned her so fiercely about it.

Then everything hurt so badly that she began to drift again, and she saw him.

_He smiled at her, leaning with one arm on a cubicle wall. "The vessel with the pestle? Out of all the movie gold I have given you throughout the years, you pick_The Court Jester_?"_

_She smiled back at him. "The what?"_

_"_The Court Jester_," he said, gesturing, as he walked toward her, as always. "Danny Kaye? Angela Lansbury? Only one of the most comical courtly films of all time? The musical?"_

_"A musical?" she asked lightly. She was supposed to tell him something, but she couldn't remember it. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe they were just supposed to talk._

_"A great one! There's dancing, there's jousting, there's poisoning and fencing, and the music, well. The music!" he was getting into it now, but suddenly he slowed down; that half smile again, and he sang. "_Where walks my true love? Where does she wander? We may be dreams apart, or just a smile away... where goes my true love, my only true love, does she have an eager heart that longs for me today?_" He fell quiet for a moment. "It's from... the movie. Ziva?" His voice became distant, as though they were far away, became thicker, accented... "Why are you crying?" She felt her own tears sting the cuts on her face as he reached out to touch her, and - Sharp! rending pain, as if being torn from one universe to another._

"Why are you crying? Look at me!" Vise-like hands on her arms.

_No. Tony, don't go._But he was gone.

Returning there was a risk she couldn't afford.

* * *

"No!" Tony fist slammed into the wall of the elevator as it rose from Abby's lab. "She's not dead! She's not dead... she's not dead."

_"She was on a Jordanian freighter bound for the Horn of Africa..."_

_The Damocles_.

_"It went down in a storm two months ago... No survivors."_

"No... She's not dead... she's not dead..."

"DiNozzo."

Tony closed his eyes and curled his hand into a fist as he turned around to face his boss. "What, boss?"

Gibbs faced the elevator doors as they closed. "I know you and Ziva were close. Tony, I'm..."

"Why did you let her stay?" Tony's eyes were black holes that bored into his boss's head. Never before had he interrupted his boss but this one time he couldn't hold back. "Why? She's dead because she stayed. You could have told her no." Gibbs was a statue not looking in any direction. "You could have... you could have done something!"

With a ring the elevator slammed to a halt. Gibbs' hand moved away from the emergency stop switch and turned to face the fuming agent. "What would she have said DiNozzo? What would she have done if I kept her from going home?"

Tony's face hardened as Gibbs words hit home. He began to pace back and forth in the tiny space like an enraged lion. "I let her stay because I knew she could handle herself. I knew that no matter what Director David threw at her, she could handle it. I knew that she'd survive. She's from the desert - I knew she could handle any sand monsters they threw her way."

Tony continued to pace, sorting out the thoughts in his mind. "What were you thinking when you let her stay?" His voice tried to remain harsh, but rising from beneath was a pained sense of urgency: the hopeless, helpless pain that he had been suppressing since he received the news.

Gibbs looked his agent in the eye and for once Tony knew Gibbs felt his agony. "I was hoping that someday she'd wake up. I was hoping that maybe she'd come home."

Tony's hand went to the emergency switch and returned life to the elevator. He turned and faced the door, once again at his boss's side. "Well, now that's impossible." His voice was bitter and filled with regret. "Ziva David is dead."

A hand rocked the back of his head. Tony gritted his teeth and added one more reason to why he wanted to sneak into Gibbs' basement and burn his boat. "DiNozzo." His boss's voice was soft but firm.

"What?"

Gibbs shrugged as he walked off the elevator and onto the squadroom floor. "What are you going to do about it?"

Tony didn't move as the elevator doors shut in front of him. His eyes hardened as it began to move once again. "_Find him.._."

...

Sleep didn't come easily that to him that night. Not in the slightest. If there was one day that Sudden Insomniac Syndrome would assault a person, it would be today. He didn't even care if that was a real disorder, because it was now.

TV surfing the movie channels was his way of releasing. His way of getting out - of getting away from it all. He had tried alcohol when Kate died and learned his lesson the hard way. Just like anesthetics and sedatives, he didn't handle alcohol well. He didn't remember those nights after she died - only vague memories plagued him. And for some reason, he wanted to remember now. He wanted to remember this pain. He wanted to remember so that when he faced her killer in the eyes he would share that pain and know every inch of the pain he caused him.

_The Court Jester_ was what he settled on. What could be more brain draining than a 1950's musical about a clown?

"_Jester_, sorry, jester." _Great now I'm talking to myself._With a throw back of his head he downed the rest of his beer - the only one he'd allow himself to have - and proceeded to let himself to lose himself in the morbid musical wanderings of the mid-1950's.

_"...Where walks my true love? Where does he wander? We may be dreams apart, or just a smile away... where goes my true love, my only true love, does he have an eager heart that longs for mine today..."_

_"Ziva?"_

_There she was. He found her once again. She wasn't facing him this time. Instead, she was was leaning out over a balcony wearing white with flowers in her hair. "I'll know my true love, don't ask me how or why..." _

_"Ziva?" He stepped towards her and gently turned her around._

_"Tony... you came." _

_He laughed. "Don't ask me how. I was passing out on my couch and the next thing I knew I'm being serenaded by you in a white dress on a balcony. Very '_Romeo and Juliet.'"

_"Why are you here?"_

_"For you," he said, confused. _

_Her face set. He had seen her do this before, turn her own skin into a mask to hide herself, knew her tells - jaw forward slightly, eyes hooded. She looked uncomfortable in the dress, light though it was, as if it were weighing her down._

_"You're not helping me, Tony."_

_"What do you mean?" He felt cold, although this place seemed to have no weather to chill him._

_"Every second I'm here, I'm not there. And when I'm not there, I'm not focused, and I don't know what I'm_ saying_ while I'm here, do you understand that?" She looked the closest to frantic that he'd ever seen her, looking up at him with her hands balled into fists._

_"Understand - what? Ziva, what are you talking about? Where are you? What's happening?"_

_Things were fading, spinning away into darkness around them. He could feel himself waking up and fought to stay there, to stay with her, or to pull her with him._

_"_I'm dead, Tony!_" she shouted, finally, voice ascending into a sob. "I... I died. I went down with the_Damocles_. Please. Please don't come back. Please go! Let_me_ go!"_

_"No! Ziva! Stop!" He seized her shoulders and shook her slightly. White fabric and golden sand came away in his hands, but he held on to her. "What -what are you saying?"_

_She drew a shuddering breath, stepped back, and looked him in the eye. "I'm saying... good bye, Tony."_

_"No." He reached out to her, to pull her in and keep her close, to save her, but she was already fading away. Backing away. And as she was shrouded in the devouring darkness, the white dress turned into battered and torn clothing. Her face was once again marred by black bruises and dried blood, but he only caught a glimpse before the scene disappeared._

_In the darkness, he could still hear her crying. "Ziva..."_

The dream ended abruptly, his ears filled with the song from his dream. He blinked back tears that suddenly evaporated into boiling rage. With hardened eyes, he went to the window and looked out upon the dark city.

And there he stood. Waiting, plotting, cursing, like a beast in the night. All he could see was red. Revenge would be red if revenge was a color, he decided. And he would get revenge.

Gibbs' words rang in his ears. _What are you going to do about it?_

"Find him." Tony's words were bleak and emotionless. Fire was in his eyes. "I swear I'll find you."

_When your head's in the clouds..._

_

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A/N:

_There were a few questions on whether or not this is a one shot or would be still continue it. To answer you who asked: This will most definitely continue. It's based on the lyrics of the song "Brick By Boring Brick" by Paramore _

_Also, a BIG BIG BIG thank you to jessisparks who found the beautiful song from "The Court Jester" It really is a beautiful song and we can totally see Tony singing it (even though it is sung by a girl here *chuckle* work with us here!) _

_If you guys have anymore questions like the ones above please feel free to ask! __(see questions like that can be used for reviews ;) okay enough with fishing for reviews. I shall be silent now. but seriously review. okay i'm really done now.)_

___The links to both the lyrics to "Brick by Boring Brick" and the song from "the Court Jester" on RedHandedJill44's profile if you want to see them_


	3. Chapter 3

**We're so sorry that this is such a short chapter – don't worry, this won't become a regular occurrence. But this one time it had to be done. And don't worry, the next chapter after this will be nice and long. :) All of the credit for this chapter goes to jessisparks2315. **

**So please enjoy and review! (seriously, review. Don't make me go fishing again. Because I will. You know I will :) **

**Once again, enjoy "Brick By Boring Brick"**

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_Go get your shovel, and we'll dig a deep hole to bury the castle._  
_  
_Maybe he was safe. He'd gotten her message, he'd heard her. She was dead. Drowned, never to be recovered.

The Man struck her across the face and she was jolted into reality. One eye was swollen too badly to open, but the other revealed that she was in a different room. No windows. The other had had windows.

Reality settled a bit more and her previous train of thought was suddenly, painfully ridiculous. Talking to Tony in dreams. Wearing a white dress, on a marble balcony.

A fairy tale in her abused mind, and he was her knight in shining armor.

The Man left her, slamming the door so that she was in total blackness.

Ziva licked dry lips and closed her eyes again. Everything hurt, but she was somehow more alert and awake than she had been in... God knew how long. Her head, her body... her chest ached and even now she flinched to call it "heartache," (a heart whose existence is frequently called into question should not ache under any circumstances) but that was what it seemed to be. The feeling of being irrevocably separated from everything she knew. The hollow cavity in her ribs ached for a hug from Abby, the feel of the carpet in the bullpen under her feet, Gibbs' strength to lean on, even McGee's unintentionally complicated explanations. And Tony's protective stare.

Breathing hurt.

She focused on the pain, bringing it into perspective, controlling it by letting it go, allowing the adrenaline brought on by injury to keep her awake, alert, and _here_. For the sake of her own sanity she couldn't allow herself to return to that fantasy land.

That life was gone.

Dead and buried.

_Go get your shovel, and we'll dig a deep hole to bury the castle._


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh my goodess! We are so sorry for our absence and lack of posting. But no worries! We are back once again with another big chapter to make up for the lack of chapter last chapter (i hope you were able to follow that haha) We kept our promise :) We hope that you enjoy this next installment because we sure did have fun writing it :) **

**So please sit back, relax and enjoy Brick By Boring Brick! Please review!**

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_So one day he found her crying, coiled up on the dirty ground..._

_"Come on_._"_ He whispered the words without realizing it, teeth gritted together. His bones were jarred from driving over the desert scrub and rock, and his skin had finally moved past its usual tan to an unhealthy sun poisoned bronze, coated with a layer of dust and sand. Three damn days getting here. And for what?

"Who knew it was this hard to get yourself captured?" McGee said, and Tony could hear him level the tone and inflection of his voice to hide his fear. _Good job, McProbie,_ he thought, somewhere in the back of his mind. God knew the junior agent had to be scared out of his mind. What kind of idiocy was this, anyway? But the DiNozzo in him rose up just in time to stop whatever campy war movie line was bubbling up, and he said, "Obviously you struggle in every area, Probie."

For once, McGee didn't care about the open mockery. "Come on," he said, unconsciously mimicking his partner.

It took a while, but their target did comply with the junior agent's wish. The encounter rolled into one jumbled mess in Tony's mind. He had a vague memory of McGee shouting in Arabic. "_Say the other thing, McGee!" _Someone shoving him back against the Jeep by his flak jacket, questioning him in another language and by that time he was seeing red because _were these harsh words the last thing that Ziva David had ever heard?_ And he struggled as the jacket and the BDU's were stripped away from him and then everything blurred, red and then black at the heavy-handed caress of the end of a rifle.

...

Tony woke with a gasp as the hot desert air burned his lungs. Sand dusted his mouth and coated his throat. He tried to cough, but nothing would move. The air was dry and stale and only after much licking of his lips was he able to move them around without pain. Only then did he notice that his breathing was rapid and shallow. He tried to move his hand, just to realize that it was tied down to the chair he was sitting in. He blinked and twisted his head around to get a glimpse of the room. Light streamed in behind him - _A window, good._ - but the chair prevented him from seeing anything else. A muffled sound reached Tony's ears and he swung his head back around, straining his eyes against the stark contrast of the light behind him to find the source of the moan.

A man was tied up on the floor. "_McGee._" The man didn't move and Tony knew it would be death to both of them if Tony got anywhere close to his partner. _Rather it would be death to Probie... _They kept Tony awake and tied up for a reason and for once, Tony was glad. This was where his journey had taken him. This was where the red path finally ended. For the past two months he'd been researching Ziva's ill-fated trip on the _Damocles, _and it brought him here. To this terrorist infested hideout in the Saharan Desert where this red-tinted mindset would finally have its revenge.

Tony's breathing evened out and soon he heard footsteps approaching the door before him. And then it opened.

It was him.

"You will tell me all that you know." It was not a question. "Who you are, how you ended up here..." The man pulled a syringe out a pouch in his hand. Tony watched with muted curiosity and suppressed rage. "_What _you are doing..." He tested the needle, suddenly turning to the captive agent and looking him straight in the eyes. "And you will talk."

A bitter smile came across Tony's face. The was a slight swagger to the tone in the agent's voice, but there was more to it than that. He was taunting the man. So with that bitter smile, and daring eyes, he turned to the man with the needle. "I'm not gonna tell you anything."

...

The man gave a small smile. "We'll see." He lifted the syringe to the light and Tony watched with hungry eyes as it was filled with a clear liquid. "The Soviets had some success with pure ethanol..." He walked over to the agent. Tony couldn't help but wince as the needle sunk deep into his arm. The man smiled as he looked into the agent's eyes. "But this is of my own design." He sat down in a chair across from Tony and settled into it. "A mixture of Sodium Pentothal, and several other agents effective in extracting the truth. It will not take long for it to start working."

Tony winced. His mind reeled as he tried to concentrate. He could feel his tongue start to loosen. He rolled his head back and blinked, trying to gain control of his quickly slipping mind. He opened his eyes and shot another bitter smile at the man sitting across from him. "You're going to be dead soon. Truth or not? I tell you, I think this stuff's working already."

The man kept his hidden smile on his lips and an interested look came over his eyes. "You know, I've ah, I've studied America... carefully." He rested his foot on the chair between Tony's legs. The red tint in the agent's eyes smoldered. "I believe in... knowing my enemy."

"I believe a man is as big as what he's seeking." Tony's eyes narrowed and a small smile became fixed on his lips as he leaned towards the man. "_I think you're a big man, Mr. McCreedy_."

The man brushed off the movie quip as if it had never been spoken. "My name is Saleem Ulman. Now tell me who you are."

Tony suddenly swallowed as the urge to speak suddenly overwhelmed him and quickly looked away, fighting the man's - Saleem's - poison. He blinked and pursed his lips as he tried to control his tongue from speaking, but the drug pulsing through his veins overcame his defenses. "I'm very Special Agent... Anthony DiNozzo of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service." At the end, he couldn't help but nearly chuckle as the drug placed an eternal half smile on his face and his persona.

"Well, a few months ago, I had not even heard of NCIS..." The man pulled out a badge. Tony's muscles in his arms flexed as instinct told him to grab his badge from the man's hands. "And... that may have cost the lives of several of my people." The man - Saleem - tossed the badge to the ground, where it hit the wall and lay in the dirt. "It will not happen again." The man repositioned himself and once again looked the agent in the eyes. "Now tell me. What is your mission?"

Once again Tony was stricken with the onslaught of the drug. His lips twitched as he fought to keep from speaking. His eyes caught the light of a lamp overhead and he tried to focus on that, to distract himself from the pull of the truth, but even then, the drug's effect overcame him. "We're... we're tasked with pursuing... crimes that involve the United States Navy or Marine Corps and their families. And our duties are... expansive..." He looked up at the light once more, but was immediately pulled back to the waiting man. He tried to resist a drug induced chuckle, yet partly failed. "International terrorism... espionage. Even an eight foot ball of meth amphetamine..."

...

Tony wanted to slap himself as Saleem's poison pulled out the information of his team. Within two minutes Saleem had gotten Tony to reveal nearly everything about McGee, Gibbs, their daily work at NCIS, not to mention the case of the giant Naval Officer who OD'd while on a carrier - never his favorite type of case, nor was it his most glorifying.

Then came the question: Who was the fourth member of the team? A twinge of guilt plagued Tony as the sudden realization that they had no formal fourth member since Kate died. _Lost her_, was his response. And the knowledge that the fourth member was a woman seemed to be of significance to Saleem.

For once Tony decided to let the truth flow from his lips. The red tint in his eyes flared as the reason he came suddenly came into focus. "For the last... four years that slot has been... filled by Mossad Liason Officer Ziva David."

Curiosity filled Saleem's eyes at the word _Mossad_. "Mossad... and NCIS?"

Tony just stared but involuntarily confirmed. "Mossad and NCIS."

Saleem's countenance wavered. He looked to the ground and then back up into the agent's eyes. "Those organizations were responsible for the deaths of my men..."

Tony allowed the drug to pour the truth of him and he couldn't help but smile. "Oh. Jeez... Well, all I can say is if we killed them, they must have been bad guys."

The force of Saleem's blow nearly knocked Tony and the chair to the ground. "They were martyrs to the cause!" Tony's breathing grew somewhat labored as he recovered from the hit. He moved his mouth a bit before looking the terrorist in the eyes. "So your team is here to what? Finish the job? To shut down my organization?"

A part of Tony smiled at the hidden panic beneath the man's voice. _He had no idea_. "Listen, can I get a glass of chardonnay or something..." Tony covered a smile with a wince as Saleem's hands dug into his hair and violently pulled his head back.

"Is Your Team Here To Finish The Job?"

Tony gave a light laugh. For once he wasn't fighting the truth serum. With taunting eyes he looked into Saleem's face. "Not only are you wrong, but you're wrong at the top of your voice."

"What does that mean?"

"Can you imagine Nicholson in "Bad Day at Black Rock"? Oh I would have loved to see that..."

Saleem grabbed the agent's mouth, effectively shutting it, and sending a blast of pain through Tony's head. "Listen to me. Where is the rest of your team?" he asked, using the drug's effectiveness.

Tony smiled. "I don't know. I don't care about your team... and I don't care about my team..." He laughed slightly, embracing the drug's elating side effect.

"Okay, you are driving in the desert - without back up... So _what_ are you doing her?"

"Well Saleem, there's only one force on earth that can... short circuit a man's better instincts, put fire in his veins, makes him dive headlong into danger with no regard for his own wellbeing." The agent dared to look the terrorist in the eyes and the two men just looked at each other, looking for some way to gain the upper ground. And so for the first time, Tony fully embraced the drug and let the truth flow out of him. The red tint in his eyes grew and Tony knew he had found what he was looking for. "Vengeance, Saleem. I'm here to kill ya."

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Memory after memory, question after question, Saleem probed Tony's mind, leeching the truth out of him until Tony eventually gave into the drug and let the truth flow. Vance and Abby came into the picture, as did their search for Ziva and _the Damocles. The Damocles... _Only the thought of the ill-fated ship brought a pain to his heart and made the red in his eyes flare.

And then he found it out.

The poison leeched it out of him: the truth for his visit, the reason behind his vengeance - _"Ziva David is dead." _

All sense for self-preservation was now lost. McGee was lying on the floor next to him, but even the safety of his friend lost all meaning. The truth spilled out of him like an overflowing cup, and the red glaze in his eyes grew more intense with each realization of how close this man was, yet how far away the agent was from touching him.

Finally the red tint clouded his vision to the point where Tony couldn't see what stood before him. And so he released the sucker punch on the bastard, as he would have said if his veins weren't clogged with truth serum. "That's how we found ya. We found a needle in the haystack per say. A single anomaly in your shipments to this humble little hideout you got here. Something not easily attained east of the Atlantic." A part of Tony smiled as Saleem looked to the canteen he was holding. "That's right, buddy. You just had to have your Caf Pow..."

With a roar of rage, Saleem threw the canteen hard against the wall where the fruity red, caffeinated beverage spilled out. With anger and fire in his eyes, the terrorist left the room, raging down the hall.

"Don't worry its just a little chemical addiction!" Tony chastising the man didn't help much either. "Probably picked that up at your American college, didn't ya? Come on we're not so bad! Maybe you should rethink your master plan!" The door locked with a thud. "You okay McGee?" he asked out softly.

The younger agent didn't move an inch. "Yep, when do we move?" His voice was low and still.

"Not yet..."

"This may be our best shot..."

"Not yet." Shouts in Arabic came from outside the door. "Wait for my cue."

With a bang, the wooden door rocked open, Saleem and a hooded figure walking in before them. "Questions are being asked in town about missing NCIS agents." Saleem forced the hooded figure into the chair across from Tony. "They are concerned that US forces might mobilize." Tony could hear the frantic fear in the terrorist's voice. The man was genuinely afraid. "One of you will tell me the identities and locations of all US operatives in the area, and the other, will die." Tony swallowed. There was no lie in Saleem's voice. Only truth.

The person across from him was frail, thinly built - a woman? A sudden question rocked his mind. Who would be he leverage? Who would be his one weakness to break him? Break him past the point that even the truth serum couldn't go? _God, please no..._

The hood was removed and Tony felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He didn't blink. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. He only looked at the scarred, battered, and bruised person sitting across from him.

"I will give you a moment to decide." The door locked as Saleem left them alone.

Tony couldn't keep his eyes away from the person across from him. Her eyes never left his. And so after two months of seeing only red, NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo smiled for Ziva David and embraced the truth serum for all its worth.

"So. How was your summer?"

_Her prince finally came to save her, and the rest you can figure out._

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_A/N: _

_We apologize for our lack of posting, but sadly with school starting soon and family vacations, our posts are going to become less and less frequent. We will do our best to make sure you do not have to wait more than a month for a new chapter, but if we can't do that, we are so sorry! Please have faith that we will continue to post and thank you so much for sticking with us this far! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!_


	5. Chapter 5

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_But it was a trick and the clock struck twelve..._

The C-130 rocketed off the runway and quickly left the dusty, blazing heat of Dubai for the chilled temperatures of the upper atmosphere. For the first time in two months, Anthony DiNozzo could breathe easily. He leaned his head back against the cargo pallet behind him and cast a glance at the people surrounding him. Gibbs was still covered in sand and dirt and Tony could have sworn the aged agent nodded before closing his eyes and descending into sleep. McGee was passed out on the bench across from him, falling fast asleep before the plane even took off. Apparently the desert heat didn't suit him.

And then there was Ziva. 

_Ziva, Ziva, Ziva..._ He shook his head in thought. Why did he come? For once he doubted the drive - the red tint that clouded his vision - that it was the right decision. That it was the right thing to do.

_Couldn't live without you, I guess. _

Tony closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair as those words racked around in his brain. Saleem's drug had pulled it out of it. It had done its worst. Not since Jeanne had he... He shook his head. He didn't want her to know - at least, not under these circumstances. He didn't want her to find out while she was nearly hating him for rescuing her, when she didn't want a white knight to ride in and save the day.

_That doesn't mean she didn't need a white knight. _Tony held back a curse as the unbidden thought came upon him. He looked across the bulkhead where she lay in a pile of blankets against a cargo pallet. Her eyes were closed, but the rapid and rising falling of her chest indicated that she was far from asleep. Tony closed his eyes and looked away, trying not to imagine the thoughts coursing through her mind, rather focusing on the city they just departed.

_Dubai_.

There was some mysterious draw, as if by an unseen desert god, that made the city so popular, so prosperous. Oil was in Abu Dhabi, the commerce in the other city states, and yet Dubai was the city that everyone knew. After the raid in Somalia, the team went back to Dubai, where their ride home was awaiting them. No on spoke. Silence was their mantra.

Tony noted how McGee had a glazed look in his eye and moved with a slight limp. Apparently their intended capture had a larger impact on him than he could have foreseen. Gibbs - a man of few words to begin with - hardly spoke, directing his team with gestures and looks. Tony got the feeling that, if anyone wanted to say something, they would. But that was just the thing: there was nothing to be said.

And yet, Tony was struck with the feeling of wanting to say something. Of words wanting to come from his mouth and explain his actions in months past and make amends for the months lost. And yet nothing came out. There was nothing to be said.

Dubai was a time of silence and even now on the plane, the silence followed him.

He settled back into the cargo pallet behind him and shut his eyes, begging the drone of the engines to drown out his thoughts.

__

_Well next time, build your house brick by boring brick, or the wolf's gonna blow it down._

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A/N:

sorry for the delay in publishing. due to extenuating circumstances surrounding the writing of this story, its being put on hold indefinitely. we may or may not come back to finish it, but before we closed it for now, we thought you readers deserved the last section we written.

So thank you so much wonderful readers! We hope you enjoyed this wonderful ride :) and maybe you'll join us again someday if we ever decide to finish this thing off.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts

-jessisparks & redhandedjill


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